Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Accidental Murder?

I didn’t mean to do it.  I’m not even sure I did it.  Here’s what happened.  I woke early this morning to the sound of heavy rain and winds and the curtain blowing across my face.  The sky was dark and the rain thundered against the tin roof of my house.  Alfred Hitchcock would have loved it.

Company is coming for lunch so I started cleaning.  I swept out the dirt and bugs which accumulated over night, made the bed and shook out the rug I keep by the bed so I can wipe my feet before getting under the covers.  Then I cleaned the dead bugs and lizard poop out of the kitchen sink and threw away the ashes from the mosquito coil.  I used a brush and dustpan to wipe off the jalousie windows to get rid of the collected dirt and lizard poop.  I used the same brush to wipe the termite detritus off the kitchen counter.  Not to worry, I then wiped down the counter with soap and water.

Next, I headed to the bathroom, where I swept, wiped off the sink and shook out the rug.  I killed, collected and disposed of a variety of bugs and spiders that had decided to make my shower their home.

I used TP to wipe the rat poop and pee off the outside of the toilet/tank.  Then I grabbed the brush to clean the inside of the toilet.  I didn’t look at it.  Do you examine your toilet brush before you start using it?  I’m guessing not.

The next thing I knew there was something in the toilet along with the brush.  At first I thought it was a roach wing but then it started moving.  Wriggling frantically.  It was a lizard.  Not a gecko but a small black lizard, the kind I hate. 

Geckos are athletic and acrobatic.  They can crawl upside down on the ceiling without breathing hard.  I’ve seen them having sex while hanging on a wall.  Try that without a safety harness.  Geckos could have an act in Cirque du Soleil if they just had a manager to promote them.

The black lizards, on the other hand, think they have the skills of a gecko but don’t.  Which is why they’ve fallen on my face in the middle of the night on three different occasions.  They think they can walk upside down on the ceiling but they can’t.  I’ve never seen them having sex in precarious positions.  Only doing it lizard style on the floor.

I’m telling you all this to explain that it wasn’t a gecko in the toilet bowl, it was a black lizard.  A gecko would have sneered at the swirling water that could lead to death and run up the side of the bowl.  But not the black lizard who’d apparently been napping on my toilet brush when I dumped him in.

He was scrambling to get out of the water.  I was using the brush to give him something to hang on to, but that seemed to make him panic even more.  Yes, I could have just reached in, grabbed him and taken him safely outside but I have rules about not putting my bare hand in a toilet to grab a frantic lizard.  Or anything else, for that matter.

He finally crawled to what he thought was safety, under the lip of the bowl.  I once again decided against grabbing.  I also decided against repeated flushing to send him to a watery grave.  Instead, I shut the bathroom door and started typing this blog.

Will he live?  I don’t know.  Will he find a way to escape?  It’s in God’s hands.  Will one of my guests sit down on the toilet and get the surprise of their lives when a lizard pops out from under them?   Hopefully.   Am I cruel in letting this Animal Kingdom act play out?  Perhaps.  But I’m already laughing out loud in anticipation.  Heck, I’ve experienced the “lizard under your butt in the toilet” thrill and lived to talk about it, why not share the fun?

I just have to remember not to use the toilet before my guests do.

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